


21 days

by Anonymous



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, pop star!jaemin, slightly inspired by the hannah montana movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: All in all, it comes as no surprise when Jaemin’s parents decide that it's for the best if he stays away from everything. And maybe it's not that bad after all.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin, Na Jaemin/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29
Collections: jaemin bday exchange





	21 days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candybeat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybeat/gifts).



> Hi there! You don't know how badly I wanted to write the other prompts as well but alas! I know this doesn't do justice to your idea, but I hope you like it!

Over the past year, Jaemin's name had been mentioned as one of the most influential celebrities in more than one list. He'd also been praised for his dedication to his music and impeccable behavior, setting a good example for his devoted fans. That being said, there isn't such a thing like the perfect guy —as the Youth Report Magazine described him—, but the perfect facade. In Jaemin's case, it's about keeping secret his real identity, the one he uses for getting in trouble and screwing things up —as Chenle, his best friend, likes to say.

Of course, Chenle has a free pass. He can say whatever he wants whenever he wants, partly because he is a genius who's proved to be always right throughout several years of friendship, and partly because —when Jaemin's parents refused to let their only son start a music career, claiming it would be too much for a 17-year-old boy— he came up with the idea of using an alter ego. A face and a name that no one would associate with Jaemin, someone who would deal with the consequences, benefits and downsides, of being a pop star while he gets to live a regular and ordinary life. It’s amazing how many people one can fool with a pretty basic disguise like a wig and different makeup

It’s a foolproof plan, Chenle’d said and Jaemin agreed. But, apparently, Jaemin is the biggest fool —or maybe Chenle only had so much little faith in him— because as Nana's popularity grows, it gets hard for Jaemin to actually keep both aspects separated, and he feels like his life is spiraling out of control.

Nonetheless, some things can't be controlled, right? At least that's what Jaemin is planning to tell his parents before he breaks the news that he might be failing his senior year in school. It totally isn't his fault. Besides, why being upset when there are so many reasons to celebrate? For example, reaching 10 million followers on Twitter in less than a year.

Jaemin smiles, eyes glued to his cellphone and fingers flying over the keyboard, typing, as he walks to his last period of class with Chenle next to him. 

“—anyway I'll see you there, right?"

"Sure," Jaemin nods absentmindedly, "Hey, can you translate this for me?" 

"Give me that," Chenle says, already used to Jaemin's requests, and grabs the cellphone, reading the comment below one of his friend's posts."It says Blue-haired Nana is the best Nana. Change my mind.”

"That's my favorite hair color too! Don't you think it really suits me?" Jaemin exclaims, "They've got taste."

"Great. Type that and let's move, I want to check something before the test."

"A test?" Jaemin asks dumbfounded.

"Na Jaemin, you're this close," Chenle holds up his thumb and index finger an inch apart "from failing Math."

"I know, Le." Jaemin sighs, "but what if you tell me these things in advance?" 

Chenle stops in front of the door. “You were there!” 

“Well, I obviously don’t remember, do I?” He holds a hand up when Chenle opens his mouth to protest and shrugs. "It's fine. I'll ask the teacher for a retest and I will study for next time "

"It's Mr. Kaplan. He won't give in." Chenle points out and Jaemin’s face falls, disappointed.

“Look, the answers will be either zero or one, just make sure to scribble something down and you should be good.” Chenle adds, before stepping into the classroom and taking a seat in the front row.

Jaemin is beyond grateful for the security requirements that every apartment building must implement. It makes it easier for him to sneak into his room, climbing up the fire escape and throwing his half upper body through the window, letting himself fall on his bedroom floor with a thump.

He takes off his clothes in a rush and throws them under his bed. Out of sight out of mind. That night, he'd decided to make a good impression and picked his favorite shirt —a white silky piece of clothing made exclusively for him,— which is now ruined, a huge alcohol stain blossoming across the front of the shirt.

After taking a quick shower and applying body lotion to cover up the smell, changed in his fresh-new set of pajamas, Jaemin heads to the kitchen. 

His parents are there. Now, here is the weird thing. His father quit his job a year ago when the negative office environment got too much to bear and has stayed at home since then. His mother, however, works the night shift in a hospital, five days a week, and only comes home until the early hours of the next day. It's only 10 pm.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Jaemin asks.

The woman looks tired when she turns his face. Maybe it's because Jaemin doesn't get to see her much recently, but he hadn't noticed the bags under her eyes and the small wrinkles in her forehead. 

She doesn't answer, instead grabs the remote control and turns on the TV, switching to the news channel. Jaemin holds his breath when he sees a low-quality recording of two people in the middle of which clearly was a heated argument. The video is way too zoomed in, so the scene is blurry, but Jaemin can recognize his clothes —they were made for him after all. Meaning his parents can do so, just like everybody else.

"I can explain," Jaemin says quickly, "It wasn’t my fault—"

"Do you have any idea how I felt when your father called me, in the middle of the night, and said you were involved in a fight and couldn't reach you?"

"That was hardly a fight— "

"and then your agent called, someone said a teenage boy, looking a lot like you, was detained by a police officer. I know you can take off that wig and pretend nothing happened, but would you care to explain?" His mother is breathing heavily when she finishes.

"My phone was on silent. And the other thing was a mistake. The officer thought I'd been drinking because someone spilled their drinks on me at the party," Jaemin threads a hand through his hair, "and I was reeking of alcohol. I didn't do anything bad."

"You didn't?" His father intervenes, "What about sneaking to a party without permission? What about starting a fight? What were you thinking?"

"I needed to be there!" Jaemin blurts out, "It's important for my career! Important people meet at parties, you know? Of course, you wouldn't understand!"

"Excuse me?" His father gives him a warning look

Jaemin throws both hands in the air. "I didn't mean it. It's just, I have something important here but you won't let me do anything about it."

His mother stands up. "That's it! I don't know what has gotten into you but you clearly need to stay away from all this." Her scowling face flushes a deep red and sends him to his room. 

In Jaemin’s eyes, the only way to get something is by doing something. It's how he got his first contract with a big company, taking home every award he could, and how he built a loyal fan base that quickly grew up. And it's how Jaemin was planning to reach his next goal.

According to the Rolling Stones, Lee Taeyong is one of today's most successful pop music producers in the industry. His reputation precedes him, and every song he touches turns into an immediate hit. Obviously, working with him in his next album would mean consolidating himself as a serious artist and getting the recognition Jaemin deserved. Lee Taeyong, a former rapper, is also Chenle’s favorite artist. So when Jaemin heard that Taeyong was going to the party, there was only one thing for him to do. 

Everything was going fine, Jaemin had already made his way to Taeyong, complimenting his work and mastery, and mentioned casually how great it would be to work together. And Taeyong had actually looked at him, from head to toe, and smiled. He was in the middle of signing an autograph —it was the perfect birthday gift for Chenle— when that drunken idiot had stumbled on Jaemin, ruining his clothes and the opportunity to get a collaboration. 

Jaemin's reaction would have been different hadn't he been sleep-deprived and stressed over school. It didn't help that the guy got mad at him for getting in his way, as if he had been the one to appear out of nowhere, and demanded him to apologize. 

Thus, as Jaemin tucks in bed and rests his head on the feather pillow, he doesn't regret anything but having been caught. 

Jaemin wakes up the next morning and gets ready for school, and finds his father in the kitchen having breakfast. Jaemin clears his throat and greets him, before grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee. He wasn't sure of what to expect, but it definitely wasn't his father to be this quiet. The silence is almost alarming, like the calm before the storm, but Jaemin dismisses it. He finishes his drink quickly, and before he leaves the table, his father insists on taking him to school. 

The short drive feels inexplicably long and when the car stops, Jaemin gets out quickly, barely saying goodbye, and sprints across the entrance to his friend's locker, eager to vent out. Chenle is frowning as he pulls some books out and shoves them into his backpack.

"You'll never guess what happened yesterday." 

Chenle’s frown deepens when he sees Jaemin. "I know what didn't happen."

"You watched it too? God! I was so embarrassed ” Jaemin rests his head in one of the lockers and continues, "can you believe that guy? He—"

"Can you shut up, for once?" Chenle snaps, squeezing his eyes,

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" 

Chenle gives him an incredulous look and snorts. "What's wrong with me?” He repeats and jabs his index finger at Jaemin's chest. “What's wrong with you?"

Jaemin backs down and lowers his voice when he notices people staring. "You need to calm down"

"And you need to get out your priorities right! You won't even apologize, will you?" Chenle hisses.

"Apologize? Why should I do it when you are the one coming out for me?" Jaemin talks back.

"Because you ditched me! Again! And for what? Going to a stupid party and getting into a fight?"

"For the record, I was there because of you!” Jaemin raises his voice to match Chenle’s. “And I don't hear you complaining when I get stuff for you!" 

"I don't care about stuff!" Chenle yells, "Free passes and fancy clothes are nice but they aren't my best friend."

"I don't get why you are so mad! I had something urgent to do and I forgot we had plans."

"Well, I'm sorry my friendship is such an inconvenience to you."

"I never said that! Look, we were supposed to uh, do something, right? Jaemin sighs, "We can do it today."

"It's not about that anymore, don't you get it?" Chenle rubs his temples, "Forget it, you're obviously too caught up in yourself that you don't realize what's going on around you." 

Before Jaemin can respond, the bell rings, and Chenle walks away, disappearing into the herd of students.

Getting into a fight with his best friend is almost as bad as the mass of notifications spammed on his phone. By the end of the day, his phone battery is drained, and Nana's name is trending in social media. 

But the worst is yet to come. 

When Jaemin walks into the apartment on a Friday afternoon and finds both of his parents standing in the middle of the living room, looking serious, he knows the storm has arrived. Jaemin drops himself onto the couch, trying to ignore the way they exchange nervous glances as they talk. Jaemin's father speaks first. His parents weren't the only ones who noticed a change in his attitude. That morning he'd talked to the school principal and found out about the huge slump in Jaemin's academic performance. 

They love him and only want what's best for him, his mother adds, and they understand there's been a lot going on, so they're worried about him. Words keep coming out of her mouth but only one thing sticks in Jaemin's mind. He's going away to his grandparent's house in the countryside for a short time. The school principal knows, his agent knows, and everything is settled up.

And just like that, the next day, on a chilly Saturday, they're standing in front of the bus station, luggage in Jaemin's hands as they wait for the next bus who will take Jaemin to Greencott. His mother hugs him and kisses him on the cheek and his father insists it will be good for him. Nonetheless, no matter how hard they try, they can't hide their uneasiness and discomfort with Jaemin's lack of response. 

He doesn't care. As far as Jaemin is concerned, they can suck it up. They can't get rid of him, sending him away as if he were some sort of package, and expect him to be okay with it. 

By the time Jaemin gets on the bus, he feels almost relieved.

When he was younger, Jaemin and his parents would visit his grandparents every summer, and even after hours of riding the bus outside the city, Jaemin wouldn't get bored of watching the trees, all different in shape and color, until it was late and dark and he fell asleep in his seat.

Now, he closes his eyes, pressing his head to the window, and sleeps.

In his dreams, Jaemin steps out of a limo to the sound of cheers and cameras flashing, as a large crowd gathers at the edges of the roped-off red carpet. Amidst the screaming and applause, Jaemin makes his way to the venue, waving at his fans. Then, he wakes up. 

The sky appears pinkish and the sun is below the horizon when Jaemin gets off the bus, shaking imaginary dust from his clothes. A glance to his phone tells him it's already past 5:00 pm, and he has four missed calls from his father. Looking around, he spots a middle-aged couple next to an old red pickup truck. They seem happy —at least happier than Jaemin— and the man runs to him, grabbing his luggage for him.

"Kiddo, what've you been doing besides growing?" 

Jaemin keeps walking and gives him a tired smile. "Hi, grandpa."

The woman is waiting for them with the car door open. "Come and give me a hug, bunny."

It's a silly old nickname, one he hasn't heard in years, but he can't help the flush in his cheeks when she says it, so he buries his head in his grandmother's hair. "Grandma, you look great." 

“And you don’t look so bad yourself.” The woman chuckles, wrapping an arm in Jaemin’s shoulders. “Now, let’s take you home. It looks like you haven’t been eating.”

Jaemin nods, disentangling her arm and gets in the car. It’s a short drive, and Jaemin is grateful when he finally sees the house. Jaemin supposes it’s a nice house, with the gable front porch and the big front yard, but he can't find himself to enjoy any of that.

As soon as he enters the house, he goes straight to the second floor where the guest room is. Jaemin takes off his shoes and drops his bag. He sits on the single bed and checks his phone again. Nana's social media accounts had been suspended after releasing a brief statement regarding the recent events—to his surprise, his agent agreed to his parents' requests, holding it would work both ways as it would also build anticipation on his next comeback —so he uses his private account. But it’s pointless. The only person he would talk to, his closest —and probably only— friend is Chenle, who is still mad at him, and there’s neither texts nor calls from him. Chenle's indulgent personality won't make it possible for him to stay mad at Jaemin for a long time, but right now he is mad, so he throws his phone away and lays in bed.

Jaemin doesn't know for how long he's stared at the ceiling when he hears a knock on the door and his grandfather comes in.

He clears his throat before he speaks. "So, kid, your parents called. Wanted to know if everything was fine." 

"Everything’s good." Jaemin mumbles

"Sure?"

"Sure." 

“Nice,” He hesitates, "Dinner will be ready in five."

Jaemin goes down ten minutes later and pays little attention to the sliced meat on his plate. He eats without a word, his grandparents doing most of the talking for him, and when he finishes he excuses himself and goes right up to his room. 

There's only so much that people can put up with, and Jaemin's grandmother reaches her limit three days later. 

Jaemin had spent the last days disoriented in his room —refusing his grandparents' offers to walk around the town, and only going outside of his room to eat—, stripped of everything that mattered to him, and trying to figure out what to do. Because even when he doesn't want to admit it to the others, Nana had taken over his actual life, there isn't Jaemin without Nana anymore. And Jaemin is more than okay with that. 

So why couldn't his parents and friends be glad as well? Why do the most important people in his life have to make a fuss about it? It would only make sense that they were the first ones to be happy for him. Instead, his fans, who are technically strangers and don't know him in real life, care about him and his happiness and support him. And maybe that’s all Jaemin needs.

Jaemin is lying on his side on the bed, hunched over his phone scrolling to the bottom of a gossip blog, when the light from his phone screen goes out. It's late, but he isn't left in complete darkness, the windows are cracked open, and a dim glow of the moonlight bathes the room. 

Jaemin clutches the device to his chest and rubs his eyes just as he hears two faint knocks on the door. He perks up slightly. "Come in."

His grandmother enters the room and approaches him. "Did I wake you up?"

Jaemin shakes his head. "Something happened?"

The woman breathes in. "I talked to your mother before. She's worried about you."

The mention of his mother releases a wave of irritation and something else, something a lot like longing, inside him. "Why? I'm here because she thought I would be fine, aren't I?"

She speaks softly and Jaemin can hear the sadness in her voice. "I understand this is difficult for you and you didn't want this, you've made it very clear, but even under these circumstances your grandfather and I cannot but be glad that you are here." 

"Grandma, I-"

"That said," she interrupts him and her voice hardens, "being with your loved ones isn't a punishment, so don't take this as one. I know that you are angry, but would it really hurt you to give it a chance? Whatever grudge you're holding against your parents isn't doing any good to you. We hate seeing you like this."

Feeling a pang of guilt creeping over him because he never meant to hurt his grandparents' feelings, Jaemin watches the woman leave the room and falls asleep.

Jaemin's grandmother says nothing the next morning when the couple comes downstairs and finds him reading a book on the kitchen table. And if Jaemin's grandfather is surprised when the boy asks him to go around the town once they’ve finished breakfast, he doesn't show it.

Jaemin’s grandfather has to run some errands anyway so Jaemin uses the trip to go with him. The man drives slowly, although Jaemin can barely see other cars in the lane, and points out some places around the town.

Jaemin realizes that several years have passed by the way the whole place is unfamiliar to him, other than the historic buildings he remembers vaguely. It's definitely a beautiful destination for a weekend getaway, with various shops, galleries, and hotels, without compromising the swathes of nature and important constructions. It's almost enough for Jaemin to forget he isn't on a weekend getaway.

It's also a small town where everyone knows each other Jaemin recalls when his grandfather stops for the fourth time to greet and chat with someone passing by. Although Jaemin can't deny it isn't that bad —and does wonders for his spirit— when people don't recognize him and speak on how much he has grown, praising his looks, each time his grandfather introduces him. 

After trailing around with his grandfather for what it feels like hours, they get in the car and the man hands him cash and drops him at the convenience store, asking him to do the shopping, while he makes a stop for gas.

The store has a simple layout. On one side there's a long breakfast counter on one side with a few people seated on the metal stools next to a large picture window that looks out onto the street, and on Jaemin's right, there’s the checkout counter area.

Jaemin wrestles a shopping cart out of the line of carts at the entrance, it's heavier than he remembers, and pushes it. After his name became famous —and a couple of incidents in which some people mistook him for a pop singer—, Jaemin stopped going to public places often as himself to avoid being recognized. 

Now, as he roams around the aisles of the store, dressed in sweatpants and a loose striped sweater, buying groceries, he lowkey awaits for someone to spot him.

Jaemin struggles to find the supplies, and stands in line, tapping his foot while he waits for the person in front of him to finish. When his turn comes, the boy at the cash register greets him.

"Hi, did you find everything you were looking for?" 

It's an empty question, but Jaemin still answers while taking the groceries out of the cart and puts them on the counter. "I would like to think so."

The cashier chuckles. "Okay, let's see."

Jaemin finishes placing the items and looks up. The boy in front of him has sharp features —his tousled black hair frames a thin pale face, with strongly defined cheekbones and clear round eyes below thick eyebrows— and a gentle smile. He looks awfully familiar.

Jaemin glances down at his name tag. A light bulb goes on in his head and he wonders if it is possible.

"Mark Lee?" Jaemin asks, the name rolls off his tongue with ease and when he looks at the boy closely, he recognizes his face.

Mark knits his eyebrows. "Yes?"

Jaemin scratches the back of his neck and smiles nervously. "Uh, it's me, Na Jaemin." When the other boy doesn't respond, he adds, "The grandson of—"

"Joohyun and Jinyoung." Mark completes.

"You remember." Jaemin grins from ear to ear.

Mark looks taken aback. "What are you doing here?"

Jaemin blinks at him. "Doing the grocery shopping?"

"No kidding, Sherlock." Mark snorts and Jaemin feels slightly excited when the furrow between his eyebrows disappears and his smile returns, "I mean Greencott. What are you doing here in Greencott?"

“I came to visit my grandparents”

"Ah, so this is for your grandparents," Mark examines the items, "You don't need to buy different brands, they usually go for the generic one." He puts half of the groceries aside and grabs the rest, punching something into the register and setting them in paper bags.

"Oh,” Jaemin takes the first bag, “How long have you been working here?"

"A couple of months. I'm taking a gap year before college and in the meantime," he gestures at the place vaguely. "What about you?"

"Senior year. Took a short break and came here."

"How short?"

"Until the end of the semester. I'll be back for the final exams." 

Mark lifts his eyebrows. "Is everything okay?"

Not really. Jaemin sighs. "Yes, it’s just—” He isn't sure of what he was going to say next, and he is glad that he doesn't need to think about it because he hears a long honk. Jaemin turns around and sees the red vehicle through the big picture window. 

He grabs the bags. "I have to go, nice to see you again!" 

The car honks again and he doesn't hear Mark's answer as he leaves the store.

“Was that really necessary?” Jaemin gives his grandfather a mildly annoyed look when he hops in the car.

“Sorry, kiddo, I’m cooking today and I promised your grandmother we would be back—” He checks the watch on his wrist “—an hour ago.”

Not really.

Their second meeting happens by chance.

In the city, when the summer starts to heat up and Jaemin wants to cool down, he sets on the air conditioner and moves on. In Greencott, and in that particular house, where his grandparents prefer to have the windows open for fresh air, summer is insufferable. 

Deciding he could use a bit of fresh air himself, Jaemin announces he's going off for a walk. 

Once Jaemin steps out into the brilliance of the afternoon, and his eyes get used to the exterior, he wanders through streets he doesn't recognize. Jaemin gets distracted by the wildflowers growing along the side of the streets and between houses, and the unusual scent of fresh grass and honeysuckle mingled in with the summer breeze, tickling in his nose.

He's turning on a corner when he stops abruptly alongside a house. A kid is sitting on the swing outside the house, eyes shut down while he bounces his legs and his head to the music coming from his earphones. Behind the boy, the pale-colored walls and the hanging lavender baskets on the entrance door give Jaemin a calm vibe.

He has a strong sensation that he has been there before. But something is off.

Jaemin is still inspecting the house when the boy opens his eyes and notices him staring. He drops a cellphone from his lap and stands up.

"Who are you?" His voice, unexpectedly deep albeit shaky, is hard. 

And oh god, Jaemin must look like a total creep. 

He expands his arms to show he means no harm, when Mark appears from nowhere, startling Jaemin, and the boy visibly relaxes.

"Sungie?" Marks asks and then looks at Jaemin when the boy points at him accusatory. "Jaemin? What are you doing here?"

Jaemin can feel himself blushing and crosses his arms across his chest. "Haven't we been through this before?"

Mark tilts his head to one side before breaking into a laugh. "Sorry. I mean, what are you doing at my house?"

Of course. When Jaemin was a hyperactive nine years old, he met the only kid around his age in the vicinity who would put up with him and in no time they became friends. From then, —until a little before Jaemin finished middle school— every time he visited Greencott, Jaemin would go straight to Mark's house looking for him. 

That house.

“I got lost.” 

Mark nods, a faint smile creeping across his face. “Do you want to come in?”

"Do you know him?" The kid asks cautiously.

"Oh, sorry, Sungie. This is Jaemin, an old friend. Jaemin this is Jisung, my brother."

Jaemin doesn't drop his jaw only thanks to his great control over his facial expressions. Jisung and Mark don't look alike a bit. While Mark’s face is strong and sharp, Jisung’s face is all soft features, with big doe eyes, plump lips and chubby cheeks.

"Nice to meet you!" He says smiling to Jisung, and then directs his gaze to Mark. "It's okay, I should get going."

"You remember your way back?" 

Jaemin freezes and Mark chuckles. Jaemin knows he isn't the funniest person, but he has lost count of how many times Mark has laughed now, and he can't help but smile.

"Come on, I'll walk you." Mark offers. "Sungie, go inside, dad is looking for you."

The boy sighs but obeys, nodding at Jaemin as a goodbye and dragging his feet to the house.

"How old is he?" Jaemin asks once Jisung is gone and they start walking.

"Twelve."

"How come that I never saw him?"

"Oh, he's actually my stepbrother," Mark says fondly, "my mom got married to his father years ago and they moved to the house."

"I see." Jaemin inclines his head pensative. "Hey, wasn't your house exterior blue?"

In all honesty, Jaemin can't remember what his life was like before he debuted, the things he used to do, and how he would spend time, perhaps doing homework or lying lazily on the couch, or hanging out with Chenle. So having too much time in his hands —without going to school and above all, without Nana´s multiple activities, meaning no interviews, shows to attend, meetings, or recording sessions— should be a good thing. Jaemin should make the most of it, get his stuff together, and whatever his parents wanted him to do. Keyword: should.

Nothing really happens for the next week. Days pass by, Jaemin still wakes up early and tries to study until he gets bored, which happens quickly, and settles on cleaning the house or anything he can get his hands on, trying to get rid of the feeling that he's staying behind, becoming irrelevant.

He feels a little homesick. Not a night goes by without Jaemin looking up for Nana's name and smiles at the plethora of results coming out. Every night he also checks on Chenle's social media to check on him, and the lack of activity worries him. And before going to sleep, because he misses his parents but hasn't talked to them yet, still mad at their one-sided decision, he plays random songs on his cellphone, the type of songs his mother would listen to. It’s the closest he can get to them.

The next time they run out of groceries, Jaemin offers himself to go to the store, after checking the route with his grandfather. As he expected, he finds Mark at the cash register.

"Thanks." Jaemin says when Mark hands him the paper bag, but doesn't leave.

"Sure," Mark looks at the clock on the wall, "So, my shift will be over soon if you don't mind waiting maybe we can hang out?"

"I'll be over there. "Jaemin beams a bright smile and agrees easily, pointing at the breakfast bar.

"Great. Jisung is there too." 

Jaemin averts his gaze at the counter and sees the boy playing with his cellphone. He approaches Jisung and sits next to him. 

"Hi, I'm Jaemin"

Jisung doesn't look away from the screen as he replies. "I know"

Mark already introduced them, but he didn't expect Jisung to remember. 

"Right." Jaemin rubs his hands back and forth in his pants, thinking about what to say. He doesn't mind silence, but he's curious about the boy. "What are you doing?"

"Playing a game" 

"And is it good?"

Jisung doesn't ask questions, but answers the ones Jaemin throws with as few words as possible. “Sure.”

Is that how his grandparents feel when they try to talk to him?

Jaemin squints at the screen. "Is that animal crossing?"

The boy makes eye contact. Finally. "You play it too?"

Jaemin feels relieved that Jisung says more than two words for the first time and grabs onto that thin shred of hope. "I have the latest version back at my house."

"Back at your house?"

"I actually live in the city." Jaemin explains

"I lived in the city too!" 

"Is that so? Mark never mentioned that."

Jisung's eyes are cast down and Jaemin wants to slap in his face because he obviously said something wrong. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine." Jisung replies and Jaemin knows they're back at the start.

"You know, turns out I'm not staying far from your house, so I think Mark didn't have the chance to tell me more about you."

"He wanted to talk about me?" Jisung gives him a wide-eyed look. "Isn't he...tired of me tagging along all the time?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, when I came here I couldn't exactly make friends and now it's too late for that and now he has to bear with me." Jisung lets on.

Jaemin snorts "You should know him better by now, he probably is the happiest with you around." He swings his legs. "When we were little he loved calling me his little brother and he wouldn't leave me alone."

Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly true. Maybe it was Jaemin the one who wouldn't leave the other boy alone. But who knows? It's been a long time. Plus, Jaemin is telling a comforting story and those are meant to be nice, not true.

"Besides," Jaemin continues, "you are barely twelve, right? I met my best friend when I was almost your age. He’s a year younger than me and also super smart so he skipped a grade, he would use a lot of big words, still does, and—" Jaemin feels a burning sensation in his eyes and blinks, trying to get rid of it.

"And?"

"We kind of got into a fight recently." Jaemin sighs.

There's a minute of silence, then Jisung speaks. "You should apologize"

"Me?" Jaemin squeals, "But you don't even know what happened"

Jisung scrunches his nose. "Well if he's super smart like you said, why would he get mad over nothing?"

“You two would get along pretty well.” Jaemin groans.

When Jaemin goes back to the house, bag of groceries in his arms, he sits on the porch where his grandmother is reading and asks how her day was. He successfully ignores the look in her face and focuses on her words, but he can't ignore the smile on her lips as she talks. It's nice, and when Jaemin pays close attention he can see a little of his mom in his grandmother. That night, instead of checking Chenle's profile, he calls his number while thinking about how to apologize.

They talk on the phone until they fall asleep.

Jaemin still goes to the convenience store, not only to buy things, even when Mark gave him his phone number last time. Funnily, Jisung did, too.

One day, Jisung texts him after going back from school and invites him over. Mark's covering someone's turn and won't be back until late, Jisung explains. 

When Jaemin arrives, he realizes the exterior isn't the only thing that has changed. He's positive there weren't so many things spread on the floor.

"I'm sorry the place is a mess but we've been bus—” Jisung scratches the back of his neck “forget it, it’s always like this here.”

"Don't worry." Jaemin smiles and points at the guitar on top of the couch. "Do you play?"

"Oh, no" Jisung shakes his head, "It belongs to Mark...He tried to teach me but it didn't work. He's the talented one. He writes and composes and—" He brings a hand to his mouth. "I wasn't supposed to say that. It's a secret"

Jaemin raises an eyebrow in interest. "I won't say anything."

"You promise?"

"I'm quite good at keeping secrets." Jaemin reassures him and changes the topic. “And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Each person has a thing! You said Mark's is music. What’s yours?

Jisung scrunches his nose, thinking hard. “I guess...dancing?” He says unsure. "When we lived in the city I attended a dance academy and I liked it" He shrugs.

"So, there isn't like a dance program at your school?"

He hesitates for a moment. “There is one...but I don't think I'd fit in"

"But you don't know that yet, do you?" Jaemin pulls out his phone and stands up.

"What are you doing?"

"As it happens, I'm not a bad dancer myself," Jaemin says and selects a playlist, "and I like dancing too"

Jisung doesn't move and Jaemin takes a step closer, bobbing his head up and down in an absurd manner. "Why don't we have fun? You can decide later whether you join the dance program."

As it happens, Jaemin isn’t a trashy dancer at all, but Jisung is, in fact, more talented than he let on. 

It's embarrassingly obvious that being away isn't helping Jaemin with his studies if his lack of comprehension of the study guide is anything to go by. He can't really put his mind to it. 

It's not that he doesn't want to. Oh, he wishes he could get his head around it. The problem is, for obvious reasons Jaemin might have skipped a few classes, and dozed off during the ones he attended, and so he missed pretty much the basics of the subjects. And yes, he could've asked Chenle. Yes, he could've asked a teacher. Hell, he even could've asked his parents. Except that there were other things happening and he got caught up in the moment. 

Jisung brings it up. Jaemin may like the younger boy too much, and he doesn't mind talking about himself, that he gives away his academic situation. Nothing to regret, because Jisung gets his problem solved.

"Class president, valedictorian, excellent grades, the highest score in the area on the admission test, and he even applied for one of those fancy schools," Jisung spouts, adoration in his voice and sparkling eyes, "Mark can totally help you!"

Jaemin smiles. He understands why Jisung gets excited because, as a kid, he felt the same way, an utter admiration for the older boy who seemed capable of anything.

"Maybe I'll ask him.” Honestly, Jaemin could use some help.

Fact is that Jaemin doesn't need to convince Mark to help him. He agrees before Jaemin has finished talking. He insists to pay him, but when Mark gives him a disapproving look and refuses his offer, he solves the issue by offering to help him in the store. In any case, he's started to spend too much time there.

Jaemin isn’t surprised that teaching comes quite naturally for Mark, who stays unbothered when Jaemin asks the same question for the umpteenth time and explains complex ideas in the simplest ways, and soon, Jaemin can feel he has a decent/full grasp of the principles and they move on to the difficult parts. In exchange, Jaemin helps Mark during his shift, stocking shelves and retrieving carts, reducing the boy's workload.

It works great both ways until Jaemin gets distracted again, this time for an entirely different reason.

After sticking around Mark for awhile —he won't let him stay more than a couple of hours— it's natural that picks up the smallest details about him, things like the way he greets customers by their name and moves his hands vigorously as he talks, the way he laughs, loud and honest, at almost anything, or how he uses his tips to buy something for Jisung when he drops in after school. 

"So, you loved him." Chenle’s voice comes clear from the phone.

Jaemin lets out an embarrassing squeaking sound. "What? Of course not, Le." 

"Such a relief to know that you haven't lost your ability to hit high notes," Chenle remarks.

Jaemin ignores him. "We were friends and I looked up to him," he explains, "he was just too likable, so considerate and smart and cool and funny that even I felt shy around him sometimes because I didn't want to say anything dumb. But I enjoyed spending time with him."

"Doesn't that sound familiar?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Chenle huffs exasperated. "You're so dense. Look, I haven't heard you complaining about Greencott or your parents or the freaking weather lately," He makes a pause as if thinking about his next words, "and didn't you say you were glad that he’s helping you to study even when you felt a little shy about that?"

"That's so out of context," Jaemin defends himself, "And sure I don't want to seem like a fool! He's incredibly smart!"

"Funny.” Chenle snorts “I'm your best friend and I'm incredibly smart too, yet —thank god— you aren’t waxing poetic about me." Jaemin wants to complain but Chenle hasn't finished. "And you don't mind me knowing you are a fool."

"That's different!"

"How come?"

"Because you and I have known each other for years and we're best friends!"

"But you know him from before and you used to be attached to the hip, right?

Jaemin remains silent and Chenle makes a pause, giving him time to process it. "Exactly my point. He isn't just a friend."

Before hanging up, Jaemin asks. “Lele?”

“I’m still here.” Chenle sounds like he’s a minute from crashing out.

“I know. You always are,” Jaemin needs him to listen, “ you’re the reason I haven’t lost myself. I haven’t said this often but I’m blessed for having you as a best friend.”

It’s probably the most honest thing he's ever said. Chenle’d been always by his side, listening his rambling, giving solutions and supporting him.

Jaemin thinks Chenle has fallen asleep when he doesn’t respond. He sighs and is about to end the call when he hears his friend voice on the other end of the line. “Mark Lee is one lucky guy.”

Jaemin already admitted he may be crushing on Mark —again— but that doesn't make it easier to be around him.

Right, the only way to get something is by doing something. Taking action. That's the secret. 

There're many perks of being a celebrity. For instance, he's learned useful stuff like how to capture people's attention and keep it. It's part of the job, so he knows how to do it.

Posing is about body awareness and knowing your surroundings. And by now, Jaemin knows the big windows are the perfect spot for the natural light to come in. So he casually leans against the counter and looks through the glass, tilting his head slightly down and stretching out his neck. He knows that the natural light is bathing him, highlighting his nose and luckily making his eyelashes look longer and thicker, casting a shadow in his cheekbones. 

He looks up and checks if Mark is looking at him, but he's nowhere to be seen. Jaemin drops the act and walks to the aisles. He finds Mark crouched, sorting a bunch of magazines.

Jaemin sighs and kneels down next to Mark and grabs a few of them. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at the register?"

“I wanted to finish stacking these.” Mark explains.

"You could've asked me" Jaemin places the magazines in the nearest rack. He grabs a couple more and is pleased to find an out-of-date edition of a magazine in which he featured on the front cover. It's a nice picture, a medium shot of him dressed in a ridiculous fluffy green sweater with an even more ridiculous lilac decoration in the shoulders, a proof that he can pull off any outfit no matter how unusual it is.

Jaemin shows Mark the magazine. “What do you think about him?” 

Mark barely glances at the cover. "That's an ugly sweater." 

"That wasn't my question," Jaemin frowns, "What do you think about him and his music?"

Mark stares at the ceiling. "His songs are catchy, but they aren't really my thing." He looks at Jaemin and seems to be struggling for words, "He’s okay, I guess”

"Oh." That's totally valid. 

"But I get why people like him, he makes you want to know more about him." Mark scratches his nose, "Plus, he's cute."

Jaemin roars with laughter and almost misses the dirty look Mark sends his way.

Jaemin read once a paper —lies, it was a trendy magazine— that said it takes at least 21 days to form a new habit. A little over a month of living at Greencott, he has fallen into a routine. 

He gets up early and goes to the kitchen downstairs, where he reads until coffee is ready and sets up the table for breakfast. He stays with his grandparents until the afternoon, when he leaves for the store and meets Mark. A couple of hours later, they walk to Mark's house and find Jisung in there —whenever he doesn't pass by the store earlier— either playing or studying. Mark tutors Jaemin until the sun is down and his parents arrive. Jaemin goes back to the house, eats dinner with his grandparents and, after they go to sleep, he heads to his room and calls Chenle.

Jaemin has fallen into a routine and he likes it. Not too much time in his hands so he doesn't feel like he's lost, not too little time so he doesn't feel like he's missing other things. He won't say it out loud, but he has come to enjoy the town. He likes having time for himself and for his family and friends as well. He likes that he's learning, a nice feeling being good at something else.

He hasn't forgotten Nana, though. That much is impossible —it's still a part of him, one that he won’t let go— but he can wait and for the time being, he can enjoy himself.

"Your parents call last night," Jaemin's grandfather says as he hands him a dish, "you should talk to them."

Jaemin wipes the water off the plate and takes the next one.

"You'll be going home in less than two weeks." The man adds.

Jaemin places the pile of plates on the cabinet. "I know."

The high school graduation qualifying exam is next week and Jaemin is supposed to go back the day before. During his first days at Greencott it seemed like that date would never come but now it seems like it's coming too quickly.

And for that, he's still mad at his parents. He's aware things weren't okay before, he knows that now, and going to Greencott was a great decision. He'd warmed up to the town and its people, which turns out to be a problem because it feels like they are taking things away from him. Again.

“I’m going to the store,” Jaemin hangs up the dishcloth, “see you later.”

Mark's talking to a customer when Jaemin comes into the store. He notices him and gives him a worried smile, before darting his eyes to the side. Jaemin follows his gaze and finds Jisung sprawled across the counter, head resting on his forearm.

Jaemin slides into the chair next to Jisung's, and props his elbow on the counter resting his head upon it, gazing down at the boy.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be at school?" Jaemin asks in a quiet tone, watching at the big clock on the wall, "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

"I'm not going" Jisung replies in a muffled voice.

"What? Why?" Jaemin lifts his eyebrows, disconcerted. Jisung is such a great boy, who loves learning and while he isn't really a popular kid, he never mentioned having problems.

Jisung doesn't move. "Nothing"

Jaemin lays a hand lightly on Jisung's arm. "Listen, we both know that I'm not the smartest person in the room, but you can't fool me."

"It's not a big deal." Jisung raises his head, rubbing his eyes

"Then why won't you go to school?" Jaemin says reasonably.

Jisung looks at him with red puffy eyes and chews his bottom lip. "I signed up for dance classes but I don't want to go." 

"I didn't know you decided to take that class."

"Mark told me I should do so," Jisung sniffs, "It seemed like a good idea."

Jaemin nods. "Why don't you want to go then?"

"I'm just going to embarrass myself in front of Be—" Jisung's eyes widened in horror, "everyone!" 

"Everyone", Jaemin repeats suspiciously. 

Contrary to Chenle's belief, Jaemin isn't dense. Jisung has no reason to be embarrassed about his dancing, he's sharp in his movements and has a great sense of rhythm, and any teacher would be delighted to have him in class. 

"What's their name?" Jaemin ventures

The boy shakes his head so hard that Jaemin is afraid he might hurt himself. "I don't know what are you talking about."

Judging by the way Jisung is flushing furiously, Jaemin doesn't need a confirmation. "The person you like, what's their name?"

Jisung seems to doubt, but in the end, he gives in. “His name is Beomgyu.”

Jaemin leans in, "He dances too?"

"He's really good," Jisung nods, "I've never talked to him, he's a year ahead, and I didn't know we would be there so I freaked out."

"I think it's nice you have something in common." Jaemin finds endearing the way Jisung talks with dreamy eyes, "But next time don't ditch school and talk to him instead."

Jaemin stands up and pats Jisung's head. "Now go to your house and do your homework."

"I can stay here and wait for you."

"No, it's fine, go ahead." 

Jisung picks up his backpack and leaves the place, bidding goodbye to Jaemin from the other side of the glass. 

Jaemin makes sure there aren't any customers in line before approaching Mark.

Mark gives him a grateful smile. "How did you do that? He didn't want to talk to me." 

"Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"You had him signing up for dance classes.” 

"I thought it would be the best for him"

Oh, the way Jaemin hates those words.

"The best?" Jaemin narrows his eyes, "How do you know what's best for him?"

A look of puzzlement crosses Mark's face."I don't think that isolating himself from the rest, because he's afraid of rejection, is good for him." He says warily, "I thought we were on the same page, you gave him the idea, after all."

"I made a suggestion, but it was totally up to him." Jaemin hisses. "Shouldn't he be the one to take that decision? Why did you have to push him?" 

Jaemin doesn't know where that's coming from, but he can't stop the words coming out. Jisung never said that Mark forced him to do anything, he didn't blame him. 

"I just talked to him and he made his mind," Mark replies in a low voice. "You know, sometimes people need help to realize other things." There's no venom in his words but they strike a chord in Jaemin anyways.

He jumps back startled. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm saying Jisung is not as vulnerable as you think he is. He isn't a little boy who is easily manipulated, he's strong and capable." 

Jaemin hates Mark is blind at what's happening, hates that he doesn't know how much his words affect him and Jaemin can feel himself losing his temper. 

"And you're pushing him away, so he isn't a burden to you anymore, right? He loves you too much and—"

"He's my brother! Don't you think I love him too? I care about him more than anything!" Mark huffs, "But I'm leaving for college soon and I need to know he’ll be okay." 

Jaemin can't stand the hurt look Mark gives him, and there's a knot in the pit of his stomach. Not the kind of feeling he's gotten used to when he's around Mark. He wants to throw up.

Someone coughs and Jaemin turns around, to the small line waiting behind him. He doesn't look back and runs to the exit. 

It feels like Jaemin has been inside for a long time, but he can still see the sun in the sky. The fresh air helps Jaemin think. 

After not talking to his parents for a long time, there were issues unresolved and sooner or later Jaemin would break. It happened sooner than expected. It happened with the wrong person.

Jaemin hadn't been really mad at Mark as he knew he didn't do anything wrong. He was mad at himself and his parents, and maybe he saw a little of himself in the Jisung.

It takes Jaemin all the way to his grandparent's house to realize that he hasn't gotten over the way his parents made a decision without asking him and then sent him away, and when he saw the young boy agitated everything came to him.

Jaemin drags his feet inside the house, passing by the kitchen and the living room. His grandparents don't expect him until night, so he goes upstairs to his room. Just as he reaches the last step, he hears voices.  
"He´ll reject the offer just like the last time." Joohyun says.

"Siwon knows they aren't going ask again, right?" Jaemin gets behind the main room door when he hears his father's name.  
"It doesn't matter. They don't know what's going to happen with Jaemin and he won't do anything until then."  
"I tried to convince the kid to talk to his parents" 

"What's going on?" Jaemin opens the door.

Joohyun and Jinyoung exchange glances. "When did you get here?" His grandmother asks. "Aren't you supposed to be at Mark's?

Thinking about the other boy causes Jaemin a feeling of loss mixed with uncertainty. He shakes his head and waits for an answer.

"Can't you just tell me what's happening?" He pleads. 

The man seems to take note of his state. "Your dad got another job offer, and probably the last since he's been rejecting all of them."

"He did it because of me?" It's not a question, Jaemin doesn't need anyone to confirm what he already knows. 

Jaemin had enough for a day, his body feels heavy and all he wants is to sleep and stop thinking. He needs to do something first. "Can you take me to the bus station?"

The buses are too full to board but Jaemin doesn't need to ask this time. His grandparent makes a stop at the gas station and then they head to the city. None of them talk during the three hours journey and Jaemin appreciates the silence, as he needs to put in order his thoughts. It's clear to him, once he forces himself to examine his feelings and the events. It's clear that he got too caught up in his own narrative that he was blind to what others were facing.

Jaemin jumps off the van as the man pulls the vehicle over and gets into the apartment building, taking the elevator to his floor. He doesn't have his key so rings the bell insistently. A few seconds later, Jaemin's mother opens the door and lets out a squeal. He throws himself into her arms and her warm embrace makes him feel better almost instantly. 

"I'm sorry." He hopes that's enough because the speech he had prepared gets stuck in his throat. "I'm sorry," Jaemin repeats, "I was wrong." His mother hugs him back, reassuringly, and Jaemin knows it's enough for now.

Jaemin doesn't go back with his grandparents. They stay the night and leave the next morning after all of them have eaten. He spends the rest of the day with his parents, and he enjoys every minute of it.  
Later in the week, they come to an agreement. After graduating from high school, Jaemin will enroll as a provisional music major while he returns to his activities as Nana.

It's Chenle —when he goes to the apartment for a sleepover— who convinces his father to go back to work. 

"He won't have time to get into trouble." He claims.

The exam is difficult but not as difficult as trying to apologize to Mark. Jaemin and his parents go to Greencott for the weekend, and he heads to the older boy's house. 

Just like the first time, he sees Jisung in the swings, but this time he's along with a petite boy with black hair, no much older than Jisung.

Jisung is too focused on the boy, smiling while he listens to him talk, that doesn't register Jaemin's presence until he is standing in front of him. 

The boy stumbles as he tries to stand up from the wooden seat and Jaemin reaches for him to pat his head. "I missed you."

The boy flushes and replies in a small voice. "I missed you too."

Jaemin smiles. "Will you introduce me to your friend?" 

"He is, he is—" Jisung stutters and the boy takes a step forward smiling shyly. "I'm Beomgyu."

"Beomgyu? Nice to meet you!" 

Jisung gives Jaemin a pointed look and that's enough for Jaemin. "Now, is Mark in there?" He asks and Jisung nods. "Great, I'll leave you guys then."

The living room looks somehow tidier. In the living room, Mark is playing the guitar absentmindedly. It occurs to Jaemin that he's never listened to Mark play.

"You were right, after all."

Mark looks up to and blinks twice. "About what?"

"About Jisung." Jaemin gets closer to Mark until his eyes are aligned with Mark's. "I shouldn't have meddled. I shouldn't have said any of that to you. I really didn't mean it."

Mark nods. "Will you tell me what was that about?"

Jaemin hums. "Eventually."

"You left."

"I took the exam," Mark raises an eyebrow, "and I passed."

Mark's eyes crinkle when he smiles fully and Jaemin feels his heartbeat race. "I never doubted you."

Jaemin snorts. "I did."

"And what's next?"

"I guess I'll go to college and get a diploma on a long term basis."

"I was thinking about the near future," he places his hands on both sides of Jaemin, "and if you don't have any plans for tonight I'd like to go out with you."

"I don't have any." 

Before closing his eyes, Jaemin sees Mark leaning in, tilting his head to the side. A yelp in the back startles them before their lips press together.

"Forget it, Gyu, let's go to your place."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still getting used to writing and I'm not completely satisfied with this little one but I'm still proud of it.
> 
> And of course, a huge thank you to the mods for organizing this!


End file.
